


vanish, o night

by warouws



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 2018 Winter Olympics, Comfort, Fluff, Insomnia, M/M, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 03:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13918677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warouws/pseuds/warouws
Summary: “I know you’re awake.”Shoma sighs, long and tired. He hasn't been sleeping well at all, not since the cold and the lead-up to the GPF, and he really, really needs to sleep if he doesn’t want to oversleep and turn up late for the next morning practice. Shoma knows that this is his third senior year and he should be able to deal with it better, but the closer the Olympics get, the more fucked up his circadian rhythm becomes. Morning practice turns from troublesome scheduling to outright exhausting, and he’s spent his nights trying to get himself to actually relax and sleep instead of restlessly struggling on his bed, turning to gaming when he can't sleep and passing out to an unsatisfying sleep with his game still open.





	vanish, o night

**Author's Note:**

> Set at the 2018 Pyeongchang Winter Olympics, at that period between the end of the Team Event and the start of the Men's Individual Event.

Someone is sitting on his bed.

Shoma opens his eyes to the darkness of his room. He has no way of knowing what time it is: his phone has fallen to somewhere on the floor from the side of bed where he left it before he sleeps, and Shoma never understands the use of opening and closing his curtains when he always have too little time to prepare himself for his day after waking up and so far, has always returned to his room after the sun has set.

Even without being able to see, the presence of another person in the room is palpable. Shoma can hear the sound of their breathing, and there is the feeling of being watched that makes him shiver, just a little bit. Suddenly, Shoma wishes that he didn’t fall asleep face down, just so he doesn’t have to turn around to look at the intruder.

Shoma closes his eyes and buries his face back to his pillow.

“I know you’re awake.”

Shoma sighs, long and tired. He hasn't been sleeping well at all, not since the cold and the lead-up to the GPF, and he really, really needs to sleep if he doesn’t want to oversleep and turn up late for the next morning practice. Shoma knows that this is his third senior year and he should be able to deal with it better, but the closer the Olympics get, the more fucked up his circadian rhythm becomes. Morning practice turns from troublesome scheduling to outright exhausting, and he’s spent his nights trying to get himself to actually relax and sleep instead of restlessly struggling on his bed, turning to gaming when he can't sleep and passing out to an unsatisfying sleep with his game still open.

He yawns, as an answer. He really, really needs to sleep.

“Shoma.”

The voice calls again, this time louder. The bed rustles as the person moves closer, and the soft touch on Shoma’s arm feels unexpectedly real.

Shoma doesn’t want to turn around, because that means he is acknowledging that this is not a dream or something else his imagination has come up with, tired and frustrated from the tragic schedule. So he settles by mumbling sleepily to his pillow, hoping to be left alone.

“Hmmmm.”

The room is quiet for a while after, and Shoma internally congratulates himself for the successful resolution of this situation.

“I saw your short.”

Or not.

“You did well.”

See, this is why Shoma thinks that whatever is happening right now, is a dream. He hasn't heard that voice for months, not unless it’s from a past recording or a passing interview on the television. Not like this, the deep, familiar tone so close for him to almost believe that it’s the real thing, saying the things that are nice to hear right now.

Shoma thinks about the team event, about the assignment. Shoma is not a person who looks back at his performances and thinks of regrets instead of experience, and it was the same for the Olympics: another competition, another program, another performance. But sometimes he closes his eyes and sees Keiji’s resolve and Satoko’s steely determination. Kana and Chris, brave and steady. Young Miu with Ryuichi, and Kaori, the youngest of them all, excited and exhausted, her smile bright as ever.

Shoma did as well as he can, but he wishes he could do more.

The person seems to sense something, because they don’t say anything after, waiting in silence.

Shoma swallows. His throat is so dry, but he wants to, he needs to- because even though this is a dream, he can’t say the answer that he wants to say like this, face down and hiding from the world. Because that person doesn't deserve it, even though they are most likely a part of a dream Shoma will not remember in the morning about.

He turns around.

It's already nighttime in Pyeongchang. The curtains apparently didn’t block all lights from entering the room, just not where Shoma was looking earlier. The moonlight shines through, illuminating the person sitting on Shoma’s bed, who is looking at Shoma with his soft eyes.

Yuzuru looks beautiful.

Shoma misses him. “Thank you.” He says instead, but it came out scratchy and weak and- Shoma swallows, and repeats his answer. “Thank you. Yuzu-kun.” He adds, in the end, because Shoma has met his eyes now, and it's good manners to appreciate a compliment.

Yuzuru smiles, slow but sure, and this feels like one of Shoma’s bizarre dreams just came to life, the ones he had when he was feverish and lonely and depressed, drowsy from all the cold medications.

“No, thank you.” Yuzuru says, one of his hands on Shoma’s arm now, soft but assuring at the same time. “You did really well, and you should be proud.” He moves closer to Shoma on the bed, and now Shoma can see the outline of Yuzuru’s face, ethereal in the moonlight, even as he frowns. “The event... there were a lot of falls, everyone was nervous. But not you.”

“I fell.” Shoma dryly reminds him, because, well. Mihoko has said that it was normal to be nervous for an event as big as the Olympics. Shoma pretty much ignored her advice until seconds before his first quad in competition.

“Just once.” But Yuzuru smiles again at him, and oh, Shoma has missed that smile, missed him so much.

“I thought I would mess up.” Shoma said, honestly. Nervousness is not the same as the feeling you get when you wake up and your body is not moving the way you wanted to, and no matter how much you warm up, the exhaustion isn’t replaced by the energy you need to glide, to soar, to compete. What Shoma remembers from his team event was the effort of forcing his uncooperative body to move the way he wants it to, the cheers of his teammates, and Mihoko's smile, small and proud, when it's over and Shoma has completed his first skate ever at the Olympics. “But I somehow pulled through.”

Yuzuru nods, as if he can read where Shoma’s mind went during his pause. “You always do.”

The way Yuzuru says it, sure and without hesitation, as if he hadn’t watched any of Shoma’s competitions this year, the struggles he had and the missed chances, missed opportunities because he wasn’t strong enough, he didn’t hold it together long enough- Shoma pulls his arm from Yuzuru’s grip to cover his eyes, the other arm too to cover his face. This dream is getting out of hand. Yuzuru isn’t here, and even if he has already arrived in Pyeongchang, he wouldn’t go to Shoma’s room because- because, he has more important things to do.

Because the last time they were this close was months ago.

Because there must be much more important things for Yuzuru than visiting Shoma’s room in the middle of the night just to say he did well in the team event.

“Shoma, what-“ He can hear Yuzuru’s confused voice, and Shoma can feel him moving closer, and he just can’t. Not right now.

“I need to sleep.” Shoma says, and is proud of how steady his voice is. “Please leave.”

Shoma should have known better to expect Yuzuru to listen to him, even in a dream. Yuzuru takes both of his wrists and pulls them apart to look at Shoma’s face, frowns at what he sees when he is close enough to see Shoma’s exhaustion. “You haven’t been sleeping well.”

 _No_ , Shoma thinks. _I really haven’t._

“Sho-“ Yuzuru says, before stopping mid-word, worry etched into his features. “Go to sleep.”

“I want to.” Shoma replies, helplessly, because he tried, he keeps trying, but it's so hard and the practice tomorrow is so early. “I’m really tired, Yuzu-kun.”

The words leaving his mouth sounds more like a confession than a complaint, and Shoma sees the moment Yuzuru recognizes them for what they are. Yuzuru has always been good in reading Shoma, even though the way he follows up the read sometimes produces mixed results.

One of Yuzuru’s hands let go of Shoma’s wrist, and slowly, giving enough time for Shoma to move away if he wants to, cups Shoma’s chin and draws him close, closer, until Shoma can feel Yuzuru's soft breathing on his mouth, catch his eyes fluttering. Yuzuru holds him like that, their faces close together, steady, waiting.

Shoma closes his eyes.

Yuzuru kisses him.

They have shared kisses before, each one collected by Shoma in the back of his mind, from awkward to rough to bold to surprising, each different from the ones before them. This one is slow and languid, Yuzuru content with softly teasing him, and Shoma easily parting his lips for him to explore, both relearning the way they both like it, relaxed and easy.

It’s one of the best feelings Shoma has had in a while.

It feels like hours has passed when Yuzuru pulls back with a smile, before darting back for another brief kiss when Shoma makes a small noise of protest. Shoma wants more, but he can feel himself slowly sinking back to sleep.

“Yuzu...”

“Ssshh.” The last thing Shoma sees is a soft smile, and a vague memory of Yuzuru pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. “Rest well.”

Shoma sleeps.

When he wakes up, Shoma realizes that it’s the first dreamless sleep he’s had in months.

He also realizes that he’s going to be late for his morning practice, and quickly grabs his things before rushing to the practice arena, checking his phone on the bus. Aside from the usual messages from Mihoko, reminding him to wake up early (and her subsequent exasperated yet fond messages when it was clear that he isn’t going to make it on time to the practice) there is one message from Itsuki.

Shoma frowns. Itsuki rarely messages him during competition, due to the simple fact that it's easier for him to just contact Shoma in person for a much more effective and faster response, especially when he's staying for the whole event. That, and Shoma tends to ignore most messages not sent by his manager or Mihoko.

The message is simple and short: _Sorry I used the keycard._

Aside from his ID, the federation has given to Shoma three room keycards, one of which he keeps and the other two safely given to his manager and Itsuki, in case of an emergency or really, if Shoma somehow loses his keycard somewhere, the latter being the most likely given his past mishaps.

Shoma doesn’t think much about it, not when the bus has arrived at the rink and he rushes out to change his skates and use the little precious practice time left, not when he absently noted that there were more media people than usual.

Mihoko, instead of chastising him of being late, simply looks at him from top and bottom, and smiles a knowing smile. This is when Shoma knows something is going on.

“Rest well?” She asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

Before Shoma can answer, a loud applause rang out from the rink, and, well.

Yuzuru gracefully glides after landing a perfectly executed triple axel, smiles when their eyes met.

Shoma touches his lips, blushes.

Not a dream, then.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Disclaimer:** This didn't happen, it's not real.
> 
> I still don't understand how this happened, but I can honestly point at Shoma Uno and his non-existent circadian rhythm during The Olympics to blame. [(I am really glad that he's getting his 8 hours sleep now).](https://twitter.com/yawning_shoma/status/971244013432066050)
> 
> Also inspired by [this Shoma interview,](https://mainichi.jp/sportsspecial/articles/20180216/k00/00m/050/118000c) where he talks about how he feels meeting Yuzuru again after quite a long time. [(It got translated as 'bizarre' so. Well.)](http://shoma-uno.tumblr.com/post/170918998192/interview-with-shoma-after-his-official-practice)
> 
> Title taken from the translated lyrics of Nessun Dorma, from Turandot.


End file.
